Fall/Winter hours: We are open Monday to Thursday from 9am to 4pm and Friday by appointment only. To schedule an appointment, please fill out our appointment form or email us at asc@torontomu.ca
If you’re been up to the 4th floor of the library and peered into Special Collections, you may have seen this funny creature sitting in the corner and wondered: “What the heck is that?”
Well, that’s Max, a larger version of the plush Kodak Kolorkins toys, produced by Kodak from 1988 until the later 1990’s. Beginning in 1988, Kodak Canada began giving away the tiny, stuffed promotional toys away in exchange for mailed-in points that customers collected from film and batteries. The promotion was wildly popular, and by the time the first promotion was over, they had given away 225,000 toys and were recognized as runner up in the Council of Sales Promotion Agencies’ first “Awards of Excellent”.
There were three series of Kolorkins, and our friend Max (along with his friends Click, Zoom, Check and Digit) was part of the last series, produced in 1999 as part of Kodak Canada’s centennial.
If you’d like to visit Max, or explore more of our collections, please drop by Special Collections, located on the 4th floor of the library building, or make an appointment by emailing asc@ryerson.ca.
Sources:
“The Awards for Excellence.” Adweek’s Marketing Week 12 June 1989: p12+. Academic OneFile. Web. 30 July 2015. URL http://go.galegroup.com/ps/i.do?id=GALE%7CA7694025&v=2.1&u=rpu_main&it=r&p=AONE&sw=w&asid=c3942ee28e69dc4ec3ca77e9effae9a0
“Kodak unveils promo series.” Chain Drug Review 17 June 1991: 158. Academic OneFile. Web. 30 July 2015. http://go.galegroup.com/ps/i.do?id=GALE%7CA10958413&v=2.1&u=rpu_main&it=r&p=AONE&sw=w&asid=d90584f76f2719b2adfdc837671b8318
“MARCH OF THE KOLORKINS.” Toronto Star, Feb 20, 1989. http://ezproxy.lib.ryerson.ca/login?url=http://search.proquest.com/docview/435873367?accountid=13631.
Over the past twenty years with the transition into a digital world, the way we collect, view and capture photographs has changed. Gone are the days when each of our snapshots took a physical form and held value in the time and money it took to create it. With digital technology offering high quality images with the use of a cell phone, and the cost of storing those images continuously decreasing, the decision to make and keep an expansive collection takes little deliberation. For those of us who were around to watch the transition from analogue to digital photography formats, we can still remember the days when that push of a button created a real object that held our memories and could be kept as a souvenir for the years to come. So how do we care for and ensure the longevity of our shoe-boxes and albums of prints combined with our hard drive of digital images?
Digitization
Analogue photographs, whether developed in a drug store or printed in a dark room, are far from permanent. In fact, if your photo collection is anything like mine, the majority of those photographs are probably colour 4×6, Polaroid, or photo paper print. These colour prints are actually at a higher risk of fading than your great grandmother’s old silver gelatin black and white prints. In fact, if you go take a look, they are probably far from the way they looked when you got them already. This is why, if you want those pictures of you as a kid or your wedding day to be around for your grandchildren and great grandchildren, your best option is to re-capture them digitally.
Digitization doesn’t have to be expensive, but it can be time consuming. Deciding to digitize is the first step, but depending on time, technical know-how, digital storage capacity and available equipment, executing your digitization plan can take a variety of forms.
Scanning
Ideally, for long-term preservation, scanning is the way to go. A good scanner can provide you with high quality images that will allow you to view, print and display your family photos however you choose. Depending on the type of photographs you have (especially if there are negatives or slides in your collection), you may need a scanner capable of transparency scanning. A good scanner goes up in price pretty quickly, but there are other options. For instance, the Toronto Public Library has Digital Design Workstations equipped with Epson scanners that can be reserved for two hours at a time to help get you through that shoebox or two in your closet. Software such as PhotoShop, EPSON Scan in professional mode, or SilverFast will provide you with all the settings you need and usually come with the purchase of a scanner.
Essentially, the settings you will be looking for include things like Document Type, Image Type, Resolution and Image Format. Features such as batch scanning that speed up the process by allowing you to select and scan more than one photograph at a time are also something to look for. Generally, the auto settings of the scanner should work fine, but you will want to ensure a resolution of at least 300 dpi/ppi with 24-bit colour RGB depth and that you are saving in TIFF or JPEG format. Make sure you are working with a clean scanner and have dusted off your photographs to prevent it from appearing in your digital image and avoid timely editing later on.
If you are really concerned about capturing the colours of your photograph as accurately as possible, the FADGI Guidelines for Digitizing Cultural Heritage Materials reviews how to scan a photograph for conservation and long-term preservation, and cover topics such as using a colour reference target, preparing your viewing environment, monitor calibration, spatial and signal resolution, colour gamut, colour mode, colour space. Generally, for heritage preservation the recommended pixel array is 4000 pixels along the longest dimension of your photograph. So if you are scanning a 4 x 6 inch print, your spatial resolution should be set to (4000 ppi ÷ 6” =) 600 dpi/ppi.
Re-photographing
If a scanner is out of your budget, and your local library doesn’t have scanners for public use, you might want to consider the option of re-capturing your photographs in a digital format. This can also be as simple or complex as you decide to make it.
Just as easily as your cell phone helps you capture everyday moments, it can also help you digitize your family photograph collection. Although there are apps like CamScanner, that can help edit a poorly captured reproduction, use these as a last resort or when time is limited, as they will likely provide you with low quality and slightly distorted images. Whether using your cell phone camera, a digital point-and-shoot, or a professional digital camera, here are some things to think about before creating a digital version by re-photographing that old family photo:
If the size of your original photograph is information you find valuable in its preservation, include a ruler or other measurement scale in your image.
Other information about the photograph, such as geographical location where the image was taken, or the names of its subjects, that you do not want to lose can also be included in the frame of your new image.
Place photograph on a solid grey background, use an easel or copystand if available.
Use a tripod (and a release cord if possible) or other steadying device to prevent blur from occurring in your digital images.
Line up the frame of your digital image with the frame of the photograph.
Try to ensure each corner of the original photograph appears as a right angle in your viewfinder to prevent distorted imaging.
Be aware of light and shadows. Optimally you will want to set up two lights, the same height and distance away and on either side of the photograph to ensure even illumination.
Additional light sources can help prevent shadows caused by curling or frames.
Storage
Digital storage
Preserving your family photograph collection doesn’t end with digitization. To ensure that your memories don’t get lost in a sea of desktop files or become an obsolete file format, you will need to maintain and follow a system. Organization is key in the prolonged care of both physical and digital photography collections.
An effective and easy way to start thinking about how to organize your digital images is to picture their file structure like a hierarchical tree:
Choose file names that will make your images easy to search so that they won’t be hard to find when you need them, and save in formats that you know you will be able to access in five years (e.g. JPEG, TIFF). Keep a backup (or two!) on a cloud or an external hard drive, so that if something should happen to your computer and your files are destroyed, you will always have another copy. Set a reminder to update your backup weekly, monthly, or yearly depending on how many pictures you’re taking and if possible, store the backup at a different location.
Physical storage
A rule of thumb is that generally photographs like to be stored in the same environment that people like to be in. A cool, dark place with about 40% relative humidity is ideal, so it is best to avoid storing your prints in a damp basement or humid attic. Also remove any potentially harmful storage materials, such as glassine, which has been a popular material for photo sleeves.
If your prints are in a shoebox you’re on the right track, but ideally it is best to store them in a material less acidic than cardboard to ensure they will not be subject to the harmful results of off-gassing. To prevent any warping it is best to lay them flat, and in case there is any adhesive, try to separate each print with Mylar, acid-free paper, or acid-free tissue. House them in individual sleeves, envelopes or enclosures to protect them from handling and changes in the environment.
Albums can also be a great place to store photographic prints, but you need to be careful that you are using a photo-friendly style of album. Avoid self-adhesive albums! These albums can destroy the image of your photograph and speed up deterioration. If you have some of these already in your collection, you may no longer be able to remove your prints without causing them serious damage, in which case digitization is your best bet for image preservation. If you are creating a new album here are some best practices to follow:
Use photo-corners to attach prints to the pages. This way, only the corners will touch adhesive, and not your prints. Should someone want to remove the print from the album they will be able to do so with little to no damage to the object.
Use acid free paper. This will delay deterioration such as silver mirroring and fading.
Separate the prints so they are not stored facing each other. Some albums are sold with acid free tissue in between the pages that will do this for you. If you are using a binder, you can also do this by inserting each page into a Mylar (Polyester) sleeve.
Avoid writing directly onto your prints. If you have information to include about the subject of an image, inscribe this on the space surrounding your print. Inks can bleed or gradually discolour your images.
Other notes on preserving your family photographs
Negatives and transparencies
If you have negatives interfiled with your prints they can also benefit from re-housing and separate enclosures. Acetate negatives in particular might be something you choose to digitize, as they are prone to vinegar syndrome, a form of deterioration that can only be delayed by freezer storage.
Undeveloped rolls of film
If you have undeveloped rolls of film that you’ve been meaning to process, but haven’t got around to, sooner is better than later. Just like your prints, film is subject to natural deterioration that may have already distorted your undeveloped images. Also, your opportunity to have someone else print them is quickly diminishing as the onset of digital takes its toll on commercial printing businesses.
With the first day of summer quickly approaching, the people of Toronto are flocking outdoors to enjoy the many events and activities taking place across the city. And although there are endless ways to take advantage of such a lively time of year, the pages of a Toronto family scrapbook may help to determine how best to enjoy the season.
The following is a list of activities to consider this year, recommended by Torontonians circa 1913:
Enjoy a promenade through Allan Gardens, one of Toronto’s oldest parks founded in 1858. While you’re there you may want to drop into Allan Gardens Conservatory, built in 1910, just a few years before these photographs were taken.
Visit one of North America’s largest fairs, taking place annually at Exhibition Place.
Venture out to the Scarborough Bluffs and explore a unique geological feature of the city’s landscape.
Gather some friends and head to one of Toronto’s many parks and beaches.
The waterfront is at its best this time of year. Venture out on the Toronto Harbour and hop aboard a boat cruise, or take out a canoe. Maybe pay a visit to the Island.
Bike along a trail or through your favourite neighbourhood.
Wander over to your favourite store or market.
Embrace local history and check out how the city has evolved.
If the city has become too overwhelming, maybe it’s time to get away and take a weekend or day trip to the surrounding area.
So long as there are friends and family, there are no shortage of ways to appreciate summer in and around Toronto.
This blog features items from the Historical Collection, the Robert MacIntosh Collection on the History of Toronto, and the Rare Books Collection held at Ryerson’s Special Collections on the 4th floor of the library. Drop-in and see what else these collections have to offer. Call 416-979-5000 ext. 4996 or email asc@ryerson.ca to make an appointment.
The trend of portraiture rapidly evolved after the birth of the medium of photography. With this new and fascinating technology it became a novelty to have your photograph made and to use it as a symbol of personal identity. Through image content and format, a photograph can tell many things about its subject such as class, position, time period and personal values. With the first internal-combustion engine patented by Karl Benz in 1896, the rise of the automobile commenced and its increasing presence in photography is representative of the role it played in society during that time.
The presence of the automobile in this cabinet card (figure 1), made at a photography studio in Portobello, Scotland, suggests a general excitement for the ever increasing popularity of this new method of transportation. William Lees, a photographer known for his unique and entertaining studio backdrops, captured this family in front of a painted landscape where they are positioned around and inside of a painted studio prop car. Although this may have created an image that seems somewhat comedic to modern day viewers, the inclusion of this horseless carriage, even as a painted cardboard cut-out, speaks to the values and studio practices of the time period.
W. Lees has paid attention to popular recommendations for photography studio backdrops that encouraged photographers to approach the background of their composition with “as much attention as would an artist painting a picture.”[i] For instance, he painted this backdrop with gradation, creating depth complimentary to the presentation of his subjects. However, whether Lees has approached the Leonardo da Vinci level of natural authenticity desired by contemporary Henry Peach Robinson is left open for debate. As stated by the pioneer of combination printing, “be the figures ever so good, their effect may be seriously injured by ineffective support.”[ii] Lees’ use of the car prop also may not reach Robinson’s standards for accuracy, as although Robinson encouraged the photographer to pursue the use studio props outside of conventional columns and curtains, he warned that to do so is a fine art “in which departure from truth becomes absurd.”[iii]
Regardless of the quality found in the studio backdrop and props, W. Lees was working at the request of a customer desiring to be photographed in this specific way. What would have motivated a family to want their professional portrait taken in a makeshift cardboard car placed in front of a landscape backdrop that it does not quite fit into? Through the 1890s and the first decade of the twentieth century, cars were a luxury that only the wealthy could afford to buy and maintain.[iv] They were a symbol of status and more of a plaything than a practical method of transportation. At the same time, they were new and increasingly accessible inventions that were readily gaining popularity in the U.K. throughout the late nineteenth-century. That a Scottish family such as that in figure 1 would have been eager to take part in this cultural experience, or even a makeshift version of it, is not a surprise.
Seen in this tintype (figure 2) is another example of a group choosing to sit within an automobile for their studio portrait. Although the photographer is unknown, the painted backdrop and presence of an actual car suggest the importance for this group to own a photograph documenting themselves within it. Generally, America had adopted the automobile by 1899, but it was still a novelty few were fortunate to own, an estimated 2500 produced in the United States that year for a population of approximately 74.5 million.[v] Perhaps the photographer was a travelling one, as many tintype studios were, and set up their backdrop outdoors allowing the inclusion of a real automobile to be a plausible option. Regardless of how it got there, its presence in this photograph makes a statement to the growing interest in this new machine.
These two portraits (figures 3 and 4), taken in front of the Hollow Tree in Vancouver, B.C., illustrate the role of the automobile and photography in tourism. Between 1900 and 1910 considerable progress was made in North American automobile production and automobiles were surpassing speeds of 25 kilometers per hour. Owning an automobile provided not only an opportunity to show off your wealth, but also an efficient way to travel through the countryside. No longer requiring the long set-up of horse and carriage, groups and families could spontaneously decide to take their car out to see sites and landmarks such as the Stanley Park Hollow Tree.[vi] Here we see the results of when these lucky travellers were met with a strategically placed camera in front of the Western Red Cedar tree, where a photographer was ready to snap a picture and document their visit.
As the introduction of the Kodak Brownie camera in 1900 provided the masses with an easy and inexpensive method of making their own snapshot pictures, professional photographers also found an increased mobility in their practice. Moving towards the 1920s, the increasing commonplace of photography was mirrored by that of the automobile, increasing the likelihood of seeing a car parked in front of your neighbour’s house. Combined, the presence of cars in photographs became more frequent and less formal. Groups and individuals were photographed in their cars at events, at their homes and anywhere else their car could take them (figures 5 and 6).
The phenomenon of including an automobile within portrait photographs is not restricted to the early twentieth century. Cars, trucks, vans, motorcycles, RVs and ATVs are still among our most expensive and prized possessions and it is not unusual to desire a picture taken of ourselves with it. However, as technology changes, so too does the appearance of the vehicle we are sitting in (or standing beside), the ease at which we can acquire such an image, and the format in which we capture and display it.
If you have any additional information about these photographs or the automobiles in them, we would love to hear from you!
Special Collections, located on the fourth floor of the Ryerson Library, holds numerous examples of late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century photographs, including cabinet cards, cartes de visite, tintypes, daguerreotypes and ambrotypes, as well as contemporary guidebooks and manuals. To access Special Collections give us a call or send us an email to book an appointment at: asc@ryerson.ca or 416-979-5000 ext. 4996.
Notes
[i] W. Whitehead, “Home-made Backgrounds,” The Photo-American, Vol. 3, no. 3 (January 1892): 70.
[ii] Henry Peach Robinson, Pictorial Effect in Photography Being Hints on Composition and Chiaroscuro for Photographers, (1869. Reprint, Pawlet, Vermont: Helios, 1971): 102.
[iv] John Heitmann, The Automobile and American Life, (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2009): 10.
[v] James J. Flink, America Adopts the Automobile, 1895-1910, (Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1970): 29.
[vi] George S. May, A Most Unique Machine: The Michigan Origins of the American Automobile Industry, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1975): 42-45.
Bibliography
Flink, James J. America Adopts the Automobile, 1895-1910. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1970.
Heitmann, John. The Automobile and American Life. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2009.
May, George S. A Most Unique Machine: The Michigan Origins of the American Automobile Industry. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1975.
Roberts, Peter. A Pictorial History of the Automobile. New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1977.
Robinson, Henry Peach. Pictorial Effect in Photography Being Hints on Composition and Chiaroscuro for Photographers. 1869. Reprint, Pawlet, Vermont: Helios, 1971.
Thomas, Alan. The Expanding Eye: Photography and the Nineteenth-Century Mind. London: Croom Helm Ltd., 1978.
The Studio. Edited by Jerry Korn. New York: Time-Life Books, 1971.
Vogel, Dr. Hermann. “Filling the Picture. Accessories and Backgrounds.” Handbook of the Practice and Art of Photography. 2nd ed. Translated by unknown. Philidelphia: Benerman & Wilson, 1875.
Whitehead, W. “Home-made Backgrounds.” The Photo-American. Vol. 3, no. 3 (January 1892).
Wilson, Edward L. “Lesson K. Accessories and Light.” Wilson’s Photographics: A Series of Lessons, Accompanied by Notes, On All the Processes Which are Needful in the Art of Photography. New York: Edward L. Wilson, 1881.
For those who can’t get enough of Gatsby fashion, RULA Special Collections recently acquired a small donation of 1910s- and 20s-era stylebooks from American clothiers Hart, Schaffner & Marx and The House of Kuppenheimer.
The companies date back to the late nineteenth-century. Hart, Schaffner & Marx began operations as Harry Hart & Bro. in 1872, when brothers Harry and Max Hart opened a small men’s clothing outlet in Chicago. By 1887, the company had undergone two name changes and a series of new partnership agreements but settled on the name Hart, Schaffner & Marx. It was soon the largest manufacturer of men’s clothing in America, selling nearly $1 million worth of clothing annually.[1]
The company’s rival, The House of Kuppenheimer, was also based in Chicago. Established by Bernard Kuppenheimer in 1876, the company reached sales of $1 million per year by the 1880s. By the 1910s, it employed nearly 2000 workers.[2]
The companies specialized in tailored clothing for men, young men, and boys and distributed their catalogs through the retailers that sold their products. These catalogs capitalized on the allure of the wealthy American elite as the companies hired well-known illustrators[3] to create images that associated the brands with the fulfillment of the American dream. Taglines referring to “prep school boys” and “stylish business men” accompanied images of young men and women hunting, horseback riding, attending lavish banquets and performing other activities associated with America’s burgeoning leisure class.
Yet, much like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s iconic literary portrait of the era, the catalogs also reveal the tensions underlying the pursuit of this elusive lifestyle. Indeed, the catalogs’ subjects are, like Gatsby himself, often as remarkable for their gaiety as for their unshakeable ennui. Meanwhile, the catalogs’ recurring concern with ‘rightness’ and ‘correctness’ betrays the intense pressures of conformity that governed the American upper classes.
Despite the catalogs’ glamourous subject matter, their emphasis on value and economy additionally reveals a target consumer more likely to pinch pennies and aspire to upward social mobility than to enjoy the breeze from an already-purchased yacht. In their most disconcerting form, the images flatly expose the American dream as a reality accessible to only a precious few in terms of race and gender.
The catalogs thus stand as a rich resource not only for those interested in the history of fashion, graphic design, or advertising, but also for anyone exploring race, class, and gender politics in America in the 1910s and 20s. Stop by Ryerson Special Collections on the 4th floor of the library to see these small but powerful documents of American history (call numbers: TT620.K87 1916-1921 ; TT620.H36 1911-1925) and to peruse other resources related to the history of fashion in North America, Europe and elsewhere.
In many ways, living in the USSR was quite unlike what we experience in present day Canada. Because of the stark contrast in the portrayal and treatment of political leaders between our cultures, researchers do not have to be familiar with Soviet history to identify unmistakable differences.
An infant Lenin was the face of the Little Octobrists, the Soviet children’s league. Similarly, Baby Jesus is often depicted in Christian art. This Lenin banner resembles those common in Eastern Orthodox Christianity, the dominant religion of the areas encompassing the former Soviet Union. The Lenin image makes use of the familiar Eastern Christian halo design, as depicted in the Byzantine-style icons being carried in the procession.
Left: Little Octobrists small banner.2008.005.01.013. Leniniana Collection, Toronto Metropolitan University Archives & Special Collections. Centre: Baby Jesus 04 by Waiting For The Word via Flickr. Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC-By-SA). Right: A cross Procession in Novosibirsk, Russia. By Testus (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons.
In Canada, it is not commonplace to find flags, banners, note cards, statues or paintings created and showcased in devotion to our Prime Minister. Conversely, Soviet founder Vladimir Lenin was featured on these sorts of materials and more, achieving a venerable status throughout the Soviet Union and beyond. This is easily seen in Toronto Metropolitan University’s Leniniana Collection, which consists of more than 800 items featuring the image of Lenin. A messianic Lenin effectively filled the void brought about by the USSR’s violent suppression of organized religion:
Certain symbolic forms probably recalled religious icons. The extensive use of the colour red, the distorted perspective (Lenin is far larger than the sun, the globe, and the worker and peasant on either side), the composition (Lenin flanked by the worker and peasant, just as Christ was sometimes flanked by two apostles), and the circular frame that surrounds Lenin (Christ was often situated in an oval frame) must have been familiar to Russians accustomed to the conventions of religious icons. (Bonnell, 1999, p. 146)
By applying Lenin’s likeness, the colour red and Communist slogans and imagery such as stars, hammers and sickles onto a wide range of materials, Lenin and his party became omnipresent – like a god. When they replaced the paranormal God with themselves, Soviets made their party into an alternative to Christian theocratic rule (Riegel, 2005). The fact that Lenin was not supernatural was irrelevant: Leninism became the political religion of the state.
Lenin tells followers to let the party know everything, much like religious confession.
Despite the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the propagated deification of Lenin continues to fascinate scholars and non-academics alike. Much like saints of Christianity, Lenin’s corpse lies in a sacred mausoleum. This site remains popular among tourists and researchers continue to seek to learn more about this infamous figure of revolution.
A lapel pin reads, “Lenin lives.” The banner next to it proclaims the same about Jesus.
Left: Mounted object with various lapel pins of Lenin.2008.005.06.005. Leniniana Collection, Toronto Metropolitan University Archives & Special Collections. Right: Jesus Lives – Signage And Posters In Dublin by William Murphy via Flickr. Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC-By-SA). https://www.flickr.com/photos/infomatique/4674198019/
To discover the Leniniana Collection at Toronto Metropolitan University’s Special Collections, please make an appointment between 9am-5pm, Monday-Friday. Contact us at asc@ryerson.ca or at 416-979-5000 ext 4996. We are located on the fourth floor in the library in room LIB 492.
Lenin and Jesus: both in the clouds, above the people.
To read more about Leninism as a political religion, refer to the works cited. Both sources are available through the Toronto Metropolitan University Library.
The Lenin lapel pin reads, “Lenin is always with us. Kaliningrad.” The shirt reads, “We are Russian! God is with us!” Leninists appropriated this common religious saying.
Left: Mounted object with various lapel pins of Lenin. 2008.005.06.005. Leniniana Collection, Toronto Metropolitan University Archives & Special Collections. Right:Мы русские-с нами БОГ by ФестивальБратья via Wikipedia. Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0, 2.5, 2.0 и 1.0.
This unique cabinet card from the Lorne Shields fonds of the Historical Photograph Collection at Ryerson’s Special Collections features not only an uncommon composition, but also an interesting history of Canada’s railway systems inscribed on its verso.
Written in pencil on the back of this cabinet card are the arrival and departure times for a journey from Ingersoll, Ontario to Kingston, Ontario via both the Grand Trunk Railway and the Canadian Pacific Railway circa 1905.
Impressively, using the Grand Trunk Railway (inscribed as “G-T”), the traveller would have been able to make the trip in just under 13 hours, leaving Kingston at 3:45 p.m. and arriving back in Ingersoll at 4:31 a.m. with transfers in Toronto and Hamilton. According to Google Maps, the same journey today would take 13 hours and 50 minutes using Via Rail Canada (including transfer waiting time). Whether either of the women in the photograph were travelling can only be speculated.
Special Collections, located on the fourth floor of the Ryerson Library, holds numerous examples of late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century photographs, including cabinet cards, cartes de visite, tintypes, daguerreotypes and ambrotypes, as well as contemporary guidebooks and manuals. To access Special Collections give us a call or send us an email to book an appointment at asc@ryerson.ca or 416-979-5000 ext. 4996.
Over the course of its 106-year presence in Toronto, Kodak affected more than just the history of photography in Canada. In satisfying its need for cutting edge photographic manufacturing facilities, the company contributed several ambitious architectural projects to the cityscape. Through these contributions, Kodak left an indelible mark upon the city, the traces of which are still visible today.
The following history documents Kodak’s presence in Toronto from 1899 to 2005, focusing on its three central facilities on Colborne Street, King Street, and at Kodak Heights. This history was constructed from documents and artefacts contained within the Kodak Corporate Archives and Heritage Collection at Toronto Metropolitan University (Accession #2005.001). These items and more are currently on display on the 4th floor of Ryerson Library. For more information, visit Ryerson Archives and Special Collections.
Kodak’s early days in Canada
In 1888, George Eastman founded the Eastman Kodak Company in Rochester, NY. In 1899, after successfully operating on the American market for over a decade, Eastman set his sights north, dispatching Kodak employee John G. Palmer to Toronto to determine the viability of establishing a subsidiary in Canada. Palmer discovered a robust market for photographic products and, on November 8, 1899, Canadian Kodak Co., Limited was incorporated under the Ontario Company’s act. The nascent company established headquarters in downtown Toronto, embarking on a relationship with the city that would last more than a century and would constitute the heart of the company’s manufacturing operations in Canada.
Colborne Street (1899 – 1901)
Following Canadian Kodak’s incorporation in 1899, the company established premises in an existing building at 41 Colborne Street, Toronto. The property was intended to serve as an assembly and distribution centre, rather than a site of manufacturing: the fledgling company imported bulk film and photographic paper, as well as completed cameras, from Rochester for packaging and distribution in Canada. The property was leased to Canadian Kodak Co., Ltd. for 3 years at $840 per year. Consisting of four floors and a cellar, 24 ¼ x 71 feet each, the site housed the entire Kodak plant and its staff of ten. A further 7-year option on the property was offered by the owner but never taken. Largely unchanged from its original structure, the Colborne Street building still stands today.
King Street (1901 – 1917)
The Colborne Street premises soon proved insufficient to house the rapidly growing Canadian subsidiary. With its lease set to expire in 1901, the company set out to find a new site for its operations in what was then Toronto’s manufacturing district. In September of that year, Canadian Kodak purchased an empty lot at 588 King Street for $70 per foot and hired Toronto architects Chadwick & Beckett to build a new plant. Over its 17-year tenure at this facility, Canadian Kodak began its transition to a manufacturing operation, producing its own photographic film, paper, and mounts. The company also began to import camera parts—rather than completed cameras—from Rochester for assembly and distribution in Canada. Like the Colborne Street site, the King Street premises quickly proved too small to house the growing business and two additional buildings were constructed in an adjoining lot. By 1908, the King Street factory had expanded to its full capacity and the company had grown to 108 employees. Like Kodak’s Colborne Street plant, the King Street facility still stands today, now part of a busy retail strip in downtown Toronto.
Kodak Heights (1913 – 2005)
By 1912, Canadian Kodak had outgrown its King Street facilities. That year, George Eastman visited Toronto to establish a sustainable plan for expansion. The result of his visit was the purchase in 1913 of 25 acres of farmland at Eglinton Avenue and Weston Road, Toronto, for $5,000 per acre. Soon after the deed was signed, construction began on the original seven buildings at Kodak Heights. The property was nicknamed Kodak Heights by company executive S.B. Cornell.
Meeting the Plant’s Power and Transport Needs To meet its massive energy needs, Canadian Kodak built and maintained its own Power House (Building 1) at Kodak Heights. Upwards of 50 tonnes of coal were burned every day, the smoke from which was released through a 200-ft chimney constructed by the Custodis Canadian Chimney Co. The structure soon became a local landmark.
Canadian Kodak also contracted with the Canadian Pacific Railway Co. to extend tracks into the Kodak Heights property, allowing easy delivery of supplies and coal. The tracks ended inside the Power House, reaching the building via a custom-built trestle.
Architectural Design Challenges The manufacture of film was a complicated multi-step process that required equally complex facilities. The sensitivity of film and paper to their environment required extreme cleanliness and climate control. Many steps of this process were performed in dark rooms lit by safe lights. In addition, the production and storage of cellulose nitrate film required safety precautions that impacted the plant’s design.
A New Home for Kodak By 1916, the original seven buildings of Kodak Heights were complete and the company began its move from the King Street premises—a move that would finish in 1917. Kodak Heights was a source of pride for Canadian Kodak. The facility was often opened for tours and played a significant role in the company’s marketing. The property would become Canadian Kodak’s headquarters until its closure in 2005.
Kodak Heights Expansion Kodak Heights grew steadily over its lifetime. In 1939, construction began on the Kodak employees’ building (Building 9). This 4-storey building was designed to accommodate the activities of the Recreation Club, the Department Managers’ Club, and the Kodak Heights Camera Club. It housed an auditorium, cafeteria, gymnasium, club room, locker room, and camera studio and had an adjacent lawn bowling green. The building opened in 1940. Expansion at Kodak Heights continued until the late 20th-century. By 1987, the property housed 18 buildings.
Kodak Heights Demolition and Remains On December 9, 2004, Kodak Canada announced the closure of its manufacturing operations. June 30, 2005 would be the last day of operations at Kodak Heights. In the subsequent months, most of the plant was demolished. Today, only the Employees’ Building remains.
To learn more about the history of Kodak Canada, the history of Canadian architecture, and the history of photography, visit Ryerson Archives and Special Collections on the 4th floor of the library.
Not long after the announcement of L. J. M. Daguerre’s daguerreotype process in 1839, the photographic medium and its technologies began to develop rapidly. While the unique image of a daguerreotype was well-suited to decorative portraiture, the lack of a negative and long exposure times made the process less profitable for landscape or travel photography since photographers could not reproduce multiple prints to sell to the public. As photographic technologies advanced, the invention of tintypes helped to lower the price of photographs by producing images on affordable metal plates, the sturdy nature of which also allowed for them to be shipped or mailed abroad. The increased use of the “wet-plate” negative process in the mid-nineteenth century allowed photographers to make multiple, saleable prints from one negative and thus became one of the more profitable processes for a travelling photographer despite the process’s cumbersome nature.
It was not until the invention of the Kodak camera in 1888 that photography truly became a popular hobby. Persuaded by the company’s slogan, “You push the button and we’ll do the rest”, consumers embraced the newly accessible nature of photography which no longer demanded the knowledge and technical skills as had been previously required.
While it was not until the last quarter of the nineteenth century that photography fell into the hands of the general public, photographers had long since been documenting exotic places abroad, returning with images that allowed citizens in their home countries to become familiar with far-away, foreign places despite having never left their hometown. Early photographers** known for doing so include Francis Frith, Maxime du Camp, J. P. Sebah, and Samuel Bourne, to name just a few.
As travel methods advanced and became more readily accessible, people carried their own cameras and documented their travels, returning home to brag to friends and relatives about where they had been, presenting their photographs as proof of their exotic experiences. It is these types of photographs that we find in the Lorne Shields fonds. Containing photographs of scenic landscapes, major sites of attraction and other tourist snapshots, we can explore countries not only half way around the world but also as they existed over a hundred and fifty years ago.
Today, travel photography remains popular as ever as both cameras and global travel become increasingly accessible to the public. Tourists now scramble to get photographs of themselves at whatever landmarks are deemed “must-sees” in their respective destinations, with the infamous “selfie” becoming a dominant sub-category in travel photography. While the photographic medium has improved exponentially since its conception, we must be wary of our recent addiction to the accessibility and instantaneity that digital photography – particularly cell phone photography – continues to provide us with. In light of our haste to document and communicate our travels, we must pause to consider a concern that many have started to address: at what point are do we sacrifice our genuine appreciation of the travel experience in order to prove our being there, as we increasingly spend more time producing or interacting with these “proof of experience” photographs than with the actual landmark or destination itself.
Travel Photography in the Lorne Shields Fonds
Best known as an avid bicycle collector and historian, Lorne Shields’ interest in collecting began at an early age when he observed – and later helped to operate – his father’s business, selling bicycles and various parts and accessories. Though his initial interest was primarily focused on acquiring bicycle-related objects and memorabilia – such as photographs, books and magazines–, his passion for and dedication to collecting soon expanded. Photography became one of his many collecting interests and in 2007 he donated part of his photographic collection to Special Collections at Toronto Metropolitan University’s Library.
Comprised of boxes of photographs, textual materials and photographic albums, the Lorne Shields Fonds includes a variety of photographic material including studio portraiture, landscape photography, and many amateur snapshots, and almost half of the photographic albums are titled after countries or travels abroad.
These travel albums consist of photographs primarily from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and include photographs taken in Italy, France, Spain, Sweden, England, Morocco, Malta, Korea and many other countries. Photographs of well-known landmarks and tourist attractions include sites such as Place de la Concorde in Paris, France; Plaza de Isabel II, Spain; The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy; the Temples of Venus, Mercury and Jupiter in Rome, Italy; various locations in the Grand Canyon, in Arizona, U.S.A; and many more. Below is a small selection of the vast number of images in the fonds that address photography’s use in documenting travel in the late nineteenth and early to mid- twentieth centuries.
Conclusion
Almost since the beginning of photography’s existence, photographers have been documenting their travels in foreign countries abroad. Improvements in photographic technologies made travel photography increasingly profitable for photographers until the invention of the Kodak camera in 1888, which granted widespread accessibility to photography for the general public and led to an abundance of scenic landscape and tourist snapshots as individuals documented their travels across the globe.
The Lorne Shields Fonds presents numerous travel photographs in many of its photographic, documenting several countries and well-known sites in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. These photographs represent a specific type of photography at a specific point in time. Today, this type of photography – travel photography – is increasingly affected by the instantaneity possible with digital and cell phone photography, allowing photographs be shared literally moments after they are created. It is this instantaneity that we must be wary of, as many begin to worry that the perceived importance of sharing these images immediately may detract from the experiences of travel itself.
Even today, just over two years since Kodak filed for bankruptcy, George Eastman’s name is unforgotten for the acute business prowess he demonstrated during the formation of his legacy, the Eastman Kodak Company. Often compared to Apple’s Steve Jobs, Eastman was known for his ingenious business strategies that began the mass commercialization of photography and put a camera in every home.
Looking at Eastman’s childhood, it is no surprise that he became such an incisive business man. Although his father, George Washington Eastman, passed away when he was only six year’s old, he still managed to found one of the oldest commercial colleges in the world, the Eastman Commercial College, that later became part of the Rochester Business Institute. Entrepreneurialism was in Eastman’s genes. His family did not fare well after the death of George Washington, and as Eastman grew up he watched his mother struggle to keep the lifestyle her family had been accustomed to. It could be said that this may have helped to motivate Eastman to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Having shown an early interest in photographs and stereoviews, Eastman’s real journey with photography first began in 1877, when he purchased his first camera to take pictures on a trip he didn’t end up making. At the time, photography was an expensive and labour-intensive hobby that required patience and a lot of equipment. Eastman began experimenting with this camera and before long he had patented his first photographic contributions: a gelatin dry plate emulsion and a mechanism for coating glass plates. With these he began the Eastman Dry Plate Company. By 1881 Eastman had turned his company into a successful and sustainable business, but it was a different invention that truly set the stage for what Eastman’s business would become: film.
Despite having already established such a prosperous business, Eastman still had bigger plans. At a time when the industrial revolution was still a recent memory, his 1932 biography by Ackerman states the four policy guidelines Eastman followed to encourage the growth of his company:
Production in large quantities by machinery
Low prices to increase the usefulness of products
Foreign as well as domestic distribution
Extensive advertising as well as selling by demonstration
Eastman wanted to find a way to replace the glass from a collodion negative, create a workable holder for that replacement, and build machinery that would be able to efficiently manufacture each invention. He looked to previous unsuccessful attempts at roll-film, such as one by Wernerke from the 1870s, and sought to improve on them and increase their usability. By June 1885, in collaboration with camera builder William Walker, George Eastman had patented and put on the market a form of roll film, a roll holder, as well as a form of sheet paper plates, a more recognizable substitute for glass. With this shift in focus towards his business, the Eastman Dry Plate Company was purchased by the Eastman Dry Plate & Film Company.
Because of the contemporary fascination with the photography, as well as the labour intensive traits of the hobby, many people involved in the technology were eager to improve on it. During the late 1800s and into the early 1900s many ideas were popping up and photographers wanted to ensure they would receive the credit for them, by applying for patents. Eastman himself was aware of the need to protect his inventions and made sure to attain patents (through application or buying them from other inventors) for every step of his new film system, a strategy continued throughout the life of the company. He, along with his business partners at the time, bought out all their foreign patents as well, and began to initiate step 3, opening an outlet in London, U.K. in 1884. By 1886 Eastman had placed a man named Joseph Thatcher Clarke in charge of in charge of linking the United States with Europe, to help protect the company’s American inventions.
Many doubted Eastman’s commitment to his early flexible films, and it did not initially catch on with experienced photographers. Consumers, still primarily established photographers, were not able to produce as good of results as they could with their glass plates. However, Eastman had confidence that the inexpensive and effective qualities of this product would eventually lead to mass manufacturing. In reaction to poor public response, Eastman added new products to his business: American film and a developing out paper called “Permanent Bromide”, which yielded better results than his earlier paper-based films. He dreamt of popularizing photography to the extent that everyone would participate in the practice, and added a photofinishing service that could provide enlargements and prints to those who used his films. Eastman now sold films, paper, prints and enlargements, yet there was still one component missing from the Eastman Dry Plate & Film Company that was hindering his products from reaching every household, and that was a camera.
It was in 1888 that George Eastman coined the word Kodak, a unique, short, memorable name that could not be mispronounced, and unveiled his first box camera along with a new system of photographic image making that anyone could use. Along with the slogan “You press the button, we do the rest”, Eastman had found a new market to sell his products to that experienced photographers had refused to buy. Anyone could purchase a camera pre-loaded with a pre-loaded 100 exposure roll of film, take their 100 shots, mail the camera back to the Eastman Dry Plate & Film Company in Rochester, and wait to have their prints and the camera loaded with a new roll of film mailed back to them. Within the next decade Eastman was able to improve his technology to make photography even more affordable, and his dream a reality.
Ryerson Library Special Collections, located on the fourth floor of the Ryerson Library, holds numerous examples of the formation of the Eastman Kodak Company, particularly in Canada, including cameras, films, photographs and more! To access Special Collections give us a call or send us an email to book an appointment at: asc@ryerson.ca or 416-979-5000 ext. 4996.
References:
Ackerman, Carl W. George Eastman.
Brayer, Elizabeth. George Eastman.
Collins, Douglas. The Story of Kodak.
Jenkin, Reese. Images and Enterprise: Technology and the American Photographic Industry, 1839-1925. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1897.